


Leaving a Mark

by flaming_muse



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-10
Updated: 2013-01-10
Packaged: 2017-11-25 01:23:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/633595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaming_muse/pseuds/flaming_muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The past leaves a mark on Kurt and Blaine. So does the present. An afternoon in Blaine's bedroom.</p>
<p>set sometime this spring or summer, but absolutely no spoilers beyond 4x10 (“Glee, Actually”) - it's not even speculation, just dreaming</p>
<p>an exercise in freewriting</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leaving a Mark

It feels like a dream to Kurt, like a memory: lying on Blaine’s bed in Ohio, Blaine’s weight on top of him, their clothes mostly off and Blaine’s mouth hot on his throat. He knows it isn’t, but it feels like one of those drowsy mornings in his lonely bed in New York when he woke disoriented and so happy until he realized that all of the wonderful feelings about being with Blaine again came from the workings of his traitorous imagination while he slept and not from reality.

But it isn’t that; he’s actually here. Kurt knows this is real, that they’ve found their way back together, that being in love with Blaine no longer has to hurt. He’s here. Being intimate with Blaine has always left him a little hazy, but he’s absolutely here.

Kurt’s hands slide up Blaine’s back, drawing him closer, but even as he opens his eyes again to the soft light of Blaine’s bedroom he can’t quite grasp onto the reality of the moment. It still feels like it’s happening in flashes, like a strobe light or a fevered delusion:

Kurt’s fingers in Blaine’s hair, Blaine’s breath on Kurt’s chest, Kurt’s foot sliding up Blaine’s calf, Blaine’s hand curling around Kurt’s hip through the cotton of his underwear. Blaine’s strong muscles flexing under Kurt’s touch, Kurt’s palms sliding over curves and angles he knew so well, Blaine’s soft skin warming beneath its dusting of wiry hair. Blaine’s wordless murmurs low in his throat, Kurt’s own breath rasping into his lungs, the rustle of bedding and the soft music playing unheeded across the room, the hint of coffee on Blaine’s breath and the hauntingly familiar scent of his laundry detergent. Blaine’s skin growing damp with sweat under Kurt’s fingers as they clutch at the small of his back, just above the waist of the underwear Kurt is just about ready to insist he removes, Blaine’s eyes deep and needy, questioning and hoping, as they look into Kurt’s, Blaine’s touches so very tender and his kisses so very firm.

For too long, Kurt hadn’t thought he’d have this with Blaine again, and even though their reunion isn’t fresh and new Kurt still feels fractured by having Blaine’s love back, not quite whole again in its presence, because what they have is even more precious now, even more fragile, now that he knows how easy it is for them and their paper-thin, heartfelt promises to be torn apart by the winds of life if they aren’t careful. Kurt is still filled with so many pasts and futures: their happy time together, their painful time apart, their countless high school promises of a perfect future, the new dreams he’d had to stitch together for himself without the expectation of Blaine by his side... it’s all still in him, all of those memories and possibilities, his path not as simple as it used to be now that he knows that life isn’t ever going to go quite as he planned, even if he does get what he wants in the end.

It feels fragile. Every caress, every breath, every second that passes, it all feels fragile. _He_ feels fragile, even if he’s sure of Blaine again like he is his own heartbeat. Hearts fail; they don’t go on forever.

But his heart is still what drives him, and Kurt will never not follow it. It might have been broken by life and even more by Blaine, but he knows how to survive being hurt. Listening to his heart still never steers him wrong.

“Love you,” Blaine murmurs against his jaw, every inch of his body a delicious torment against Kurt’s.

“Yes,” Kurt says with a gasp and a smile. If he hadn’t listened to his heart, if he’d let himself grow cold instead of allowing the thaw toward Blaine, he wouldn’t have been able to have this again, and he’d have been so very wrong. “I love you, too.”

Blaine pulls him closer with a happy sound, and Kurt turns his face to kiss him. When he slips his fingers down Blaine’s back and under the waistband of his briefs, he feels Blaine shiver at his touch, and his smile grows. He likes how Blaine reacts to him; he likes even more _making_ him react. He dips his fingers down further, pressing against the flexing muscles of his ass. Kurt’s own hips grind upwards in a slow roll as need rises in him. Blaine feels so _good_ to him, just perfectly right, and is his to enjoy once more. He _wants_ to enjoy him, to be as close as they possibly can. He’s not one to take good things for granted, but now he does Blaine least of all.

Following his lead, Blaine groans and rocks against him for a few moments before he huffs out a rueful laugh. “Kurt,” he says, lifting his head. “I want to take this slow. We have a few hours, and you’re going back to New York tomorrow. I don’t want to rush.”

“Who’s rushing?” Kurt asks with what he knows is a flirty lift of his eyebrow.

“You,” Blaine says, his smile growing fond. He dips his head to kiss Kurt again, just barely a peck of the lips, and draws back again before it can grow into anything else.

“Fine,” Kurt replies in frustration, because he’s going back to New York _tomorrow_ , and he doesn’t want to waste a second of their time together playing games. “Kiss me properly, and I’ll do my best to control myself.”

“Controlling yourself isn’t _quite_ what I want.” But Blaine kisses Kurt again, his mouth eager once more, and that’s all that matters.

It isn’t that Kurt wants to rush, really; it’s that he just doesn’t want to stop. He doesn’t want to feel like he has to hold himself back. He had months of loneliness and rejection in New York, months before that of feeling like he was being left behind in Ohio while Rachel got to live his dream, years of yearning before _that_ , and he just doesn’t want to have to wait for anything anymore. He knows all about the power of hard work and long-term plans, and he’s not letting that go, but he’s also learned about enjoying being able to have what he has right now. He wants to be happy about being at NYADA, and he wants to be able to have as much of Blaine as he can before he goes back there.

So he does, even if he can’t follow the insistent thrum of arousal along its natural crescendo quite yet. He’ll enjoy this part, too.

Time gets strange again as they kiss and kiss. The blink of Kurt’s eyes can last minutes, the journey of his fingertips along Blaine’s cheek can last hours. He can spend eternity in the slide of his tongue against Blaine’s in a single kiss. And yet his hands from moment to moment are everywhere without the memory of moving them: on Blaine’s arms, at Blaine’s waist, on Blaine’s face, in Blaine’s hair holding him steady as Kurt gasps into his mouth and tries to remember how to do anything but want him.

And Kurt _wants_ him. He wants him. He wants _him_. He wants Blaine’s body so solid on top of him, so familiar, so warm, so very real that it can’t be a dream. He wants Blaine’s labored breath in his ear, the scent of his aftershave in his nose, the taste of his sweat on his tongue. He wants Blaine’s hands on him, on his face, on his sides, on his legs as they work to push off each other’s underwear. He wants Blaine’s mouth on him everywhere, tonguing his navel, breathing against his stomach, laving his nipple, and working hard against his throat as their bared erections rub against each other between them. He wants it all, every bit of it.

“Oh, god,” Kurt says, his eyes squeezed shut at the sensations of Blaine’s hard cock brushing against his and the almost uncomfortable suction at the base of his throat that makes his erection throb with the wet heat and the muffled, desperate groans coming from Blaine as they move together. “ _Blaine_.” It’s a plea. It’s a thank you.

Blaine lifts his head, his hand still tight on Kurt’s hip, keeping them together. “I’m sorry,” he says, gently kissing the spot he’d been sucking and nuzzling under Kurt’s jaw in the most distracting way. “I know you get mad when I leave a mark.”

And it’s true; Kurt may like wearing scarves and shirts with interesting collars, but he hates being required to do so because he also happens to like not having to share his sexual activities with the world around him. And yet... he still doesn’t want to share his activities with the world around him, but the world is different now. He and Blaine are different now. _He_ is different now. And what he wants is different, too.

So Kurt just gets his fingers in Blaine’s hair and strokes through his loosening curls a little. “You can,” he says, extending his neck just so. “It’s okay.”

Blaine’s eyes go dark, and he’s close enough that Kurt can hear the tiny catch in his breath. “You don’t mind? I know you don’t like it.”

“I didn’t,” Kurt says, but that was before. That was when it was easy, when forever was an unwavering promise, when he saw Blaine every day, when he’d never had to doubt him, when he’d never had to doubt _them_ , when he’d never needed any proof of their love when they were apart but the thought of Blaine’s warm smile in his mind.

That was before.

“I want you to,” Kurt says and thinks of looking in the mirror in his apartment tomorrow, so far away from Blaine’s house, and seeing the mark there, reaffirming what had once been a given but had later become impossible: that he could be in New York and still have Blaine, that he could be in New York and still _be_ Blaine’s.

“Really?” Blaine watches Kurt’s face, his own hungry and hopeful, and Kurt nods. Blaine’s smile bursts out of him, and he says, “I love you,” before dipping his mouth to Kurt’s lips for a thorough kiss that makes the world spin around them.

And when their bodies catch the rhythm again, rolling against each other enough to tease and torture and send Kurt’s pulse racing, Blaine doesn’t hold back as he cups Kurt’s jaw and his ass with greedy hands and sucks low on Kurt’s neck, pulling blood to the surface and Kurt’s heart with it, his own feelings as well as Blaine’s rising there for everyone to see.

Not that he won’t probably still cover it up, he knows in some distant corner of his mind that isn’t occupied with the gorgeous body of his boyfriend so available to him, but he will know. He will see.

Their time together might still feel like a dream when he gets back to New York, something he longed for so badly he’s sure he imagined it, but he’ll be able to look at the mark, feel that awful weight of loneliness and disconnection no longer on his chest, and know the truth.

It’s real. He and Blaine might have been changed and scarred by everything that happened, but their love is real once more.

**Author's Note:**

> Reminder: I am spoiler-free! Please do not spoil me! Thank you!


End file.
